Harry Potter and his best friend
by Tsang05
Summary: What if Harry had friends before Hogwarts? Wait, no let me rephrase that. What if Harry had met and befriended one of his closest friends before Hogwarts? Please follow, favourite and share the story if you like it. Constructive criticism would be welcome. [Pending minor reediting]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:** I DO NOT own Harry Potter.**

* * *

"So this is it huh?" A young, eleven year old boy spoke slowly to his old friend.

"Oh, come off it. We'd still see each other-"

"Only after the year," he mumbled.

"-and really, you should be looking forward to it! You and your cousin are headed off to different schools. You wouldn't have to face him everyday,"

Harry potter sighed. That much was true, but he still could not fathom the idea. For the first time since he registered his friends presence beside him, he forced himself to look at her. He could see the sombre expression adorning her face, the notorious curls of her hair seeming to have lost their vibrant vibe.

It was the summer of 1991. Well, to be more precise, the end of summer. The start of a new school year loomed on the horizon. To say that the children across Britain were in a state of dread would be quite a fantastic understatement. Yet for these two young friends in Surrey, the coming of a new semester had a whole different meaning.

For as long as these two could remember, the two best friends had always been the outcasts, their brilliance and ingenuity overshadowed by the cold shoulders and jealousy of their peers.

They, through thick and thin, had weathered the past 3 years together. They ate recess together, studied together, scored together, learned together, but most importantly had been there for one another. The new semester did not only mean the resumption of the onslaught that was schoolwork. It meant the dissolution of a friendship, one that they both cherished with all their heart.

That alone was quite too much too bear. What had killed Harry on the inside though was that he had to lie. Lie to his best and only friend. For as much as he deeply cared for Hermione, as much as he cherished their friendship, he could not tell her a secret. A secret that even he didn't know for most of his life, but really wanted to share. Harry Potter is a wizard. But as a wizard, he cannot reveal the world of magic to those who did not know.

So he lied. Stonewall high was where his horrid relatives wanted him to go prior to the revelation of him being a wizard. His uncle still used it as the cover, though. As far as they knew, nobody in Little Whinging, or in fact in all of Surrey, had been to this school, and it wasn't particularly well-known and was pretty distant. It was a boarding school too, meaning that it was the perfect cover. So Harry lied.

Harry gazed upon his one friend and gave a weak melancholic smile. Apparently, her genius had warranted a direct admission into a private school in Northern England. "What good is that, exactly? There would always be gits like him in every school. It's just… it's just that this time… I wouldn't have my best friend with me,"

A flash of misery and sadness crossed her face, before she reigned in her emotions. Harry caught it though, and it made him feel even worse.

"But w-we'll make new friends eventually. You don't have to worry about that," Hermione replied. Harry could tell that she was struggling to keep her voice steady.

Harry looked at her with a sad expression. "Maybe, but nobody can replace you." Hermione's eyes widened. Harry swallowed, before continuing "I just… I just wish that after all of this, we would still be friends,"

Harry looked away as he felt a tear slide down his cheek, followed by another. Then another. Then another. Without warning, he felt the distinct sensation of being smacked in the head by one Hermione Granger with a book.

"Like I'd ever forget you! Honestly, do you really think that I would leave my best friend for new ones? Heck no" She yelled indignantly, before pulling him into a hug. "Harry James Potter, I don't know your opinion, but the last three years of my life were the best! Do you know why? It is because of you!"

Hermione could feel a tear of her own streaking down her cheek. "Before I met you, I-I was alone. N-nobody wanted to be friends with me. Nobody w-wanted to talk to me. All I had were Mum and Dad. B-but when I was transferred to a different primary school, it was as if the sun had risen after a cold dreadful night. I no longer felt trapped in a world of dull grey. For I had you. You brought that bit of colour and fun into my life. You were always there for me. Harry James Potter, you were the one who brought that bit of happiness into my life. I'll be damned if I ever forget that,"

Harry felt his eyes widened considerably. He tried to speak, but no words came out. Truthfully, he could say the exact same things as what she had mentioned. He gave her a teary smile, before finally managing a "Thank you, Hermione".

Watching the drama unfold between their daughter and the boy they considered as the son they never had, Dan and Emma Granger smirked. In the hands of Mrs. Granger was an unusual book. A history textbook, actually. Their daughter had complained about having misplaced this very intriguing wizarding book.

They had been sorting through her new textbooks one day and had found something peculiar when they accidentally dropped this one. As they picked it up, they saw something that made them freeze. On the corner, they saw the name "Harry Potter"

Intrigued, they read the rest of the chapter. At first, it seemed absurd that the humble, quiet and overly-polite boy was a celebrity. Contemplating it for quite a while, the realisation dawned on them.

The history book clearly had a fair bit of exaggeration, but what the understood was that the "boy-who-lived" was only one year old when some power-hungry bloke, whose name sounded like "mouldy-volt", murdered his parents, before attempting to kill him on Halloween, 1981.

The Harry Potter they knew had been living with his relatives since his parents died on Halloween, 1981.

The book claimed that the boy obtained an unusual scar from the attack, one shaped like a lightning bolt.

The Harry Potter they knew had the exact same scar.

When an old Scottish lady knocked on their door and revealed that their daughter was a Witch, she had mentioned that early signs of magic include doing things that seemed impossible.

The Harry Potter they knew had mentioned getting in trouble for multiple things he could not explain. From turning the colour of his teacher's wig blue to somehow ending up on the chimney of the school to being blamed by his abusive relatives for somehow vanishing the glass of a zoo exhibit.

It all seemed to fit. The old Scottish lady, one Minerva McGonagall, had also explained about the secretive nature of the magical world, given the attitudes of muggles in the past and, to a much lesser extent now, towards "unnaturalness". That they understood. They assumed then that Harry's guardians fit into the small category of "muggles" who knew about and loathed magic.

It made their blood boil whenever they saw the boy, whom they considered to be the son they never had, bloody, bruised and/or limping. As much as he tried to hide it from them, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were not fooled. The whole thing screamed abuse. Many a time, they had complained to child protection services, the school and even the police, yet surprisingly nothing was done.

Strangely, when they asked about it, they would look at them confused, stating that they had made no such report. Now, Dan and Emma Granger were no experts, but at the age of 36 and 35 respectively, they highly doubt they were suffering from Alzheimer's or dementia. They let it go eventually, opting to support the boy whenever and however they could.

It was a bit of a déjà vu when they got to know Harry more. He was quite the genius (though not as much as their daughter) and had subtly tried to be as helpful, open and friendly as he could. Yet, he was still ostracized by most of the people in his level and, by extension, the neighborhood, developing a nervous, somewhat shy attitude and low self esteem. Courtesy of a certain Dursleys family.

It was too painfully similar to their own daughter's experience. They never regretted befriending him, though. In fact, it seemed his continued friendship with their daughter had benefited her, infiltrating Hermione's bossy façade, breaking her shell of introversion and her own lack of self esteem.

That isn't to say they didn't enjoy teasing either of them, though in Harry's case they had to tone it down quite a bit for obvious reasons. And now, they were possibly pulling one of the biggest jokes ever on the 2 unsuspecting eleven year-olds, though they would have to settle for a letter instead of witnessing the inevitable explosion from the two of them.

* * *

Harry eased himself into an empty compartment at the very back of the train. His reasoning was that everyone else would go for compartments in the forward and middle sections. He just needed some time alone, although he pretty much was alone on that platform. His uncle dropped him off at King's Cross at the crack of dawn while on the way to a private hospital for Dudley (given a pig tail courtesy of Hagrid) and eventually to work.

Hagrid had said that the train would leave from a hidden platform, the entrance of which was apparently a pillar between platforms 9 and 10. He was somewhat sceptical about running headfirst into a solid brick pillar. But he had nothing to worry about as he closed his eyes and, when nobody was really paying attention, dove into the pillar.

To his immense surprise upon opening his eyes, he was not in an A&E ward in some hospital with his relatives howling with laughter at their prank. Rather, he found himself standing on a rather deserted platform, the other platforms nowhere to be seen, with a large scarlet locomotive just to his right. The words "Hogwarts Express" were emblazoned on the side of the boiler. Needless to say, he was gobsmacked.

As he settled in for the long wait and then the long journey, he locked the door to the compartment, before reaching into the pockets of his jeans, purchased and gifted to him by the Grangers. He pulled out a small photograph, his face contorting into a sad smile.

It was taken on the 19 of September, 1990. Hermione's eleventh birthday. There he was, smiling a very happy smile while being tackled into a hug by his best friend. Behind them, her parents were looking on, laughing at their antics.

He felt a tear run down the side of his cheek. Those were good times. Heck, any day with Hermione in it was going to be a good day, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. But those days were over. Their paths would diverge. Boy, was he wrong

* * *

The sound of his compartment door being forced open (yes, a door with a magically enhanced lock being forced open) made him bolt upright. He was a bit miffed that someone was violating his privacy and waking him up. He turned to give his best imitation of a stern, cold annoyed glare. Only for it to falter under the much more intense glare of a certain bushy brown-haired-

"H-Hermione?! What are you doing here?"

He took note of his surroundings from the corner of his eyes. The train appeared to be departing. He could see the parents of countless other wizarding children waving, some sobbing. The growl that emanated from his best friend brought him made him jump. A sudden possibility hit him. Surely, his best friend was not-

"I could ask you the same thing!" She yelled, before flicking a wand and shutting and repairing the door behind her. _Ok, definitely a witch, _he thought before feeling a palm impact his head.

"Why didn't you tell me, damn it?!" His best friend screeched.

"I could ask you the same thing-" he mumbled, before receiving another slap.

"Do you have ANY idea how painful it was for me, believing that my best friend was going to a different school? That I wouldn't be there for him? That he would forget me? That I would be alone AGAIN?"

"Do you think I was happy not telling you? Don't you think I felt THE EXACT SAME WAY? You're angry that I didn't tell you I was a wizard, yet YOU didn't bother to tell ME that you ARE A WITCH?" He yelled back.

Silence followed as Hermione sat down on the opposite seat, facing away from him. He felt his anger go away as he realised what had happened, his guilt soaring as the first tear fell from her face.

Before either knew it, he had pulled her into a hug, muttering apology after apology. Hermione's sobs eventually stopped, as she returned the hug, embracing Harry as strong as possible.

"I'm sorry," Harry said as he felt a tear of his own race down his cheek. "I wanted to tell you. I really did," he hesitated "I was afraid. Afraid that you would not believe me, or call me weird or-or a freak. I was scared that you would hate me for what I am. I was scared that I would hurt you by revealing what I am. I-I didn't want to lose you,"

Hermione looked up and stared him dead in the eye, her tear stained face now took on a slightly offended look "I would never hate you, Harry. I would never, ever say those things. You are my best friend, and I'll be damned if I turned my back on you,"

Harry looked back down on the girl, before saying one last "I'm sorry"

"Don't," Hermione replied, "It was my fault for yelling at you. For slapping you and not telling you I was a witch. So I'm sorry," she paused, giving him a very serious look. "Promise me, Harry. Promise that you would always be there for me,"

Harry looked at her incredulously. "Hermione, I would always be there for you, as you have always been for me,"

And with that, the two best friends settled themselves in for the journey, as Harry helped stow Hermione's trunk. They proceeded to banter with each other, talking about various things, such as how and why her parents had hid a book, how they may have known about Harry's magic and tried to keep it from either of them, and how to get back at them.

They were interrupted by a rude, obnoxious redhead, a young boy looking for his toad and a pompous aristocratic bigot. They told the second boy to try asking an upperclassmen for help, and kindly told the first and the last ones to bugger off. All the while, Harry couldn't help but think that his life had indeed made a sharp turn for the better.

As long as Hermione was there with him, he felt he was ready for anything.

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**First HP fic. Please follow, favourite and share if you enjoyed. Constructive criticism would be welcome. Any, ideas, improvements, your thoughts, etc.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to J.K. Rowling.**_

* * *

"Firs' years! Firs' Years, this way!" Came the booming voice of Hagrid. "Alrigh' there, Harry?" He added, nodding in Harry's direction.

"Good to see you, Hagrid!" Harry replied, dragging a still stunned Hermione over. He could not exactly blame her for her reaction. After all, he was quite positive he gaped at the giant man like a goldfish when he first met him. Just like every other soon-to-be first year around them

Hagrid eyed Harry's companion and could not help but give a slightly teasing smirk in their direction. Harry raised an eyebrow at this once he and Hermione got close.

"Yeh didn't tell me yeh had a girlfriend harry," Hagrid whispered mischievously into Harry's ear. To which, Harry nearly tripped. Noticing the questioning look on Hermione's face, Harry mumbled an apology to her, before giving Hagrid a small sidelong glare.

Hagrid smiled. As he noticed the other first years beginning to gather around him, he decided not to indulge the embarrassed and indignant boy in front of him with the chance to reply.

"'Right! Come along now!" Hagrid yelled over the still gaping and muttering crowd. He proceeded to lead Harry, Hermione and the others, slipping and stumbling along the steep narrow path, down through a dark wood.

"Come along now! Jus' a bit futher, and yeh''ll get yer first glance at Hogwarts!" He then yelled. Sure enough, after another 50 or so metres, they arrived at the edge of a great lake. There, across the lake and atop a slope, perched a grand castle, the lights of which made it stand out prominently like a beacon in the dreary, cold dark nights of the Scottish Highlands.

Hagrid led them to a small fleet of boats resting along the shoreline. "No more'n four ter a boat!" He called, "An' no funny business along the way, unless yeh want ter spend the night with the Giant Squid."

Harry and Hermione were followed to a boat by Neville Longbottom, the nervous boy on the train, and, god help them, Ronald Weasley, the arrogant, abhorrently rude redhead from earlier.

"So, Harry-" the rude redhead began, trying to push past Neville and Hermione in the boat to get Harry at the front. Suddenly, the boat lurched forward, throwing Ron off and into the muddy bank.

"Righ'! FORWARD!" Hagrid commanded, as one by one the, the flotilla began crossing the lake. Ron had to settle with one of the later boats. Harry was thankful for Hagrid's timing. He did not want a repeat of the redhead inviting himself and boring Harry out of his skull, while condescending Hermione almost to the point of tears. He was definitely not someone Harry wanted to be with.

Too soon, the wondrous boat ride came to an end, as they pulled into what looked like a sheltered harbour within the hill itself. From there, they were led up some stairs and into the entrance hall, where upon they were greeted by a stern-looking old woman. One that Hermione, Harry noted, appeared to recognise.

"Professor, the firs' years," Hagrid greeted.

"Thank you, Hagrid," She replied in a mild Scottish accent. She turned her attention to the young students in front of her. Her gaze lingered on Harry and Hermione for a little while and for a moment, Harry thought he could see a small smile tug at her lips, before she resumed.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she finally said, "In a few short moments, the Sorting Ceremony will begin. This ceremony is important, for it decides which house you would be a part of. The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. While you are here, your house is your family. Your deeds and successes will award your house points, while any form of rule-breaking and debauchery will have points removed.

"At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the house cup. The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily. I shall return when we're ready. Until then, smarten yourselves up," She walked away, slipping through a gap in the massive doorway, before shutting it.

Muttering broke out as soon as she left. Some were excited, others anxious and speculating about the ceremony. "We have to sit for some test. I think we have to fight something," Ron said somewhere behind them. And with that, a general panic broke out amongst the entire first year body.

Harry was a bit worried. Sure, he had read quite a considerable bit already, but if it was a test they had to do, there was no way he'd be able to score, let alone win a fight against a magical creature. He did not know enough. What's a month's worth of reading compared to years of exposure to the real thing? He gulped as he saw himself on the train back home, back to the Dursleys who would surely sneer and laugh at him. Back under their tyrannic thumb. Back to being the worthless, lonely, abused outcast.

He felt someone squeeze his hand. Hermione had seen the dismayed and slightly horrified expression on her best friend's face. She could make a guess as to what Harry was feeling. She gave Harry a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, Harry" she muttered, "I'm sure we'll both get through. I know we will,"

"And If I don't?" Harry whispered back.

Hermione gave a thoughtful look. "Then I'll come back with you. Whatever secondary school you go to, I'll come with you," Harry's eyes widened. "I will always stick with my best friend to the very end, Harry. Nothing is going to change that,"

Harry was surprised, before giving her a grateful smile. Arguing with her like this would be impossible. Harry felt immense gratitude wash over him. This was followed by a wave of determination. No way is he going to allow Hermione Granger, his best friend, possibly the smartest girl in the world, to enroll in somewhere like Stonewall. One way or another, he will get them both into Hogwarts. He will be there for her to the end.

* * *

The "test" was just to try on a hat. An old enchanted hat. Harry cursed the Weasley boy under his breath as he watched Hannah Abbot, the first of their group to be called up, sorted into Hufflepuff. She was soon joined by Susan Bones. Terry Boot became the first new Ravenclaw, while Milicent Bulstrode became the first new Slytherin and Lavender Brown became the first new Gryffindor.

This went on for a while, with some being sorted instantly, while others taking a minute or two. Until-

"Granger, Hermione," Professor McGonagall called out.

Wishing her good luck, Harry watched as Hermione made her way over to the stool and yanked the hat on. There was a pause, before the hat chuckled and yelled "Gryffindor!". Hermione leapt off the stool, passed the hat back to the Professor with a nod of thanks, before making her way over to the Gryffindor table. From there, she would watch, anxiously waiting for her best friend's turn.

Harry waited patiently as the number of first years left to be sorted diminished. He braced for the inevitable stare-fest that would ensue the minute his name is called. Sure enough, just after " Perks, Sally-Anne" was sorted into Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall called out "Potter, Harry!"

As he nervously walked forward, he could already see and hear the muttering and staring of virtually everyone.

"Potter, she said?"

"THE Harry Potter?"

"Blimey, it's really him!"

"He's cute!"

Harry felt a slight blush creep onto his face at that statement. He gingerly stood on the stool, feeling extremely uncomfortable at all the attention. The last thing he saw though was Hermione giving him a reassuring smile, before the hat obscured his vision.

"Hmm," the hat muttered. "Difficult, this one is. You're quite the model student, aren't you? You have quite the intelligence. Plenty of cunning too…"

Harry gripped the stool more tightly. "Please don't be Slytherin," He muttered to himself.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" The hat quipped, "You know, Slytherin would aid you in your rise to greatness,"

"I don't want to be great," Harry replied.

"Alas, I concede. I can see the type of person you are, Mr. Potter. I must admit putting you there would not be the best choice, as it does not suit who you are. Now, what about Ravenclaw, then? Hmm," the hat paused for a moment. Harry felt rather uncomfortable. The hat finally chuckled "Ah, but then there's your courage. Endless, foolhardy courage resides in you. To say nothing about your loyalty. Ah, and the stubbornness and compassion. Your willingness to protect those you hold dear. Your strength lies with your dedication to your friends,"

Friends. Throughout Harry's life, there had been only three people, sans Hagrid as they just met recently, who he could consider as friends. Three individuals who he cared for more than anything else in the world. The Grangers.

"I want to be with her in Gryffindor," he thought.

The hat chuckled. "I would have it no other way. Your defining qualities are just like your family's before you. Courage, camaraderie and loyalty surge through your veins, but there is no shortage of subtleness and intelligence. However, I can see that all would be nought if not for one glaring factor: the bonds you cherish with all your heart, and your stubbornness and determination to protect that. It is therefore with great pleasure that I declare you, as I have with Miss Granger, a new member of GRYFFINDOR!"

Words could not describe Harry's happiness and relief as he took off the hat, giving it back to Professor McGonagall, before making a beeline towards the Gryffindor table, which was in a state of jubilation. He shook hands with Ron's much more friendly and hospitable brothers - Percy, Fred and George - before sitting down beside his best friend, who promptly enveloped him in a brief hug.

The two's joy would dampened later on when "Weasley, Ronald" was sorted into Gryffindor too. He took advantage of the gap opposite Harry, rudely nudging the Gryffindor taking up the seat to the side, effectively hijacking it. While Hermione had simply reserved a seat and explained to a few reluctant people that she was hoping her friend would join her, Ron had once more showcased his lack of civility. Harry and Hermione simply resolved to not acknowledge him for the duration of the meal.

When the sorting was over and the meal began, a wide range of mouthwatering dishes materialised on the plates in front of them. Harry and Hermione, only having eaten several sweets on the train, loaded their plates with as much food as possible (though Hermione's was significantly less and in a more dignified manner). Multiple times, he had to cut away portions of his meal due to the sheer amount of food Ron was projectile-spilling.

Nobody had dared touch the plate of fried chicken in front of Ron due to the flying food debris coming from him. Harry eventually had enough, casting a small shield spell he had read about. Hagrid had advised him against learning advanced spells so early, but he begged to differ. It would be temporary and was weak and limited. But at least there was considerably much less of his food that he had to isolate.

Hermione, having also learned the charm, followed suit. They constantly reapplied it, thankfully without anyone noticing, until the last platters of food disappeared and the headmaster rose to give them a few warnings and announcements, before sending them off to bed. By now, the fatigue from the journey, along with the small food coma and the mild exhaustion from the shield charms, had finally set in, as Harry and Hermione bid each other good night, before retiring to their dormitories. Their adventure had begun.

* * *

It took them a while, but after getting helpful directions from Nearly Headless Nick, the resident Gryffindor ghost, they arrived at the great hall for breakfast relatively early on the first day. The excitement of having their first lessons had made them a little restless. As they sat down for a leisurely breakfast, Harry could not help noticing a certain staff member already seated.

He had greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It was not his appearance that caught Harry's attention though, but rather the look he was giving Harry. Not even an angry uncle Vernon could match that look. As soon as Harry noticed though, the Professor looked away. He found it strange, but decided to simply ignore it for now.

About a few hours later, as the rest of the student body filed in, Harry began to notice the gossiping and stares again. This time, however, some of the comments were directed at Hermione rather than him. And they were quite rude. Whether Hermione had heard them, Harry would not know, for she appeared to remain engrossed in her book about transfiguration. But Harry was gritting his teeth. He made a mental note about those he could identify who were badmouthing his best friend, vowing to give them as cold of a shoulder as possible

At that moment, he heard someone plop down onto the empty space next to him. He cursed his luck as he realised it was none other than Ronald ruddy Weasley. He exchanged a quick glance with Hermione, before the two of them wolfed down the remainder of their food, took the timetables from Professor McGonagall, and promptly made to leave.

At least until someone grabbed Harry by the arm and yanked him back.

"Oi, 'arry!" Ron said to him, bits of food spraying from his mouth full of, well, food. Harry grimaced in disgust. "'Ere choo goin', mae? I jus' go' 'ere. 'tick arou' will ya?"

Harry didn't know which was worse: Ron speaking with his mouth full or Ron being completely delusional. Noticing Ron loosen his grip, Harry pried Ron's hand from his arm and made his way to join Hermione, who was waiting by the doorway.

"Ugh, why in God's name does he have to be in the same dorm in the same house as I am?" Harry grumbled as they set off to find the Transfiguration classroom for their first lesson. He made a mental note to probably invest in a map next year.

"He doesn't appear to understand the concept of being civilised," Hermione voiced. "But for all we know, we could end up being friends after all," She added, though her facial expression clearly displayed her true thoughts on the issue.

Harry snorted. "The day I befriend him is the day Dudley passes a test," They shared a small laugh at that, knowing full well of Dudley's lack of intelligence. The banter continued, as they began comparing Harry's cousin to the Weasley prat. Their early departure meant that they got to class on time and both sat down side-by-side at a table near the front. They smirked when, after McGonagall made a demonstration by turning her desk to a pig and back and turning herself into a cat, Ron Weasley stumbled in. He sighed in relief and proudly boasted about how lucky he was that the "old woman" was later than he was. To which, the professor simply leapt off her desk and transformed back, causing Ron to nearly wet himself.

It was then they decided that McGonagall was probably their favourite teacher.

* * *

The remainder of the first week went on unremarkably, with the exception of potions on Friday. The greasy haired, sallow skinned professor Snape had started off class by asking Harry O.W.L and N.E.W.T questions. To which Harry, having already read quite a fair amount about the subject of potions, answered as best he could. The professor stared at him for a few moments with an unreadable expression, before proceeding to berate everyone for not copying down anything.

The rest of the lesson went on unremarkably until the end, and he and Hermione brewed and submitted several vials of the potion which the professor ordered them to brew. Harry felt confident as he handed up his samples. They were pretty similar in both colour and viscosity to what the professor described. Hermione, naturally, submitted even better samples. If Snape's look of intrigue and lack of a sneer were any indication, Harry thought he may well have passed.

It was at this moment he received a faceful of burning hot, acidic potion. He stumbled backwards into a table, before losing his balance and collapsing on the floor. He then felt the same searing pain reach his legs, as he realised what had happened. Someone did not brew their potion properly, which promptly melted the cauldron, causing it to blow up.

He could hear Hermione screaming his name. He could hear other people screaming, yelping and groaning in pain from the potion as he scuttered away from where he thought the potion was. He felt someone haul him to the side. Within a few seconds, the pain was gone from his body. He forced open his eyes. To his surprise, he saw Snape looking back at him, concern, dread and worry plastered on his face for a second before being neutralised.

The potions master pulled him up to his feet, before proceeding to vanish the remaining potion and heal the others. It was then Harry noticed a certain bushy haired missile impacting him at full speed, enveloping him in a brief hug and a sob. The remaining few minutes of potions lessons, in which Snape was supposed to get them to take down a few notes and assign homework, was instead spent berating Ronald Weasley and Seamus Finnigun for their carelessness and idiocy.

* * *

The weekend finally came, as the two went down to visit Hagrid, having received an invitation a few days prior. They nearly broke their teeth on the rock cakes but it was a good experience overall, chatting with Hagrid. They discussed a lot of things, from lessons to spells to teachers and finally their year mates. Hagrid looked shocked to hear that Snape had bothered to heal them, explaining he usually sends students to the hospital wing with a few points deducted, or else left them to their own devices.

The light hearted banter went on, with hagrid showing them a few magical creatures on the outskirts of the forest. Harry and Hermione found the Nifflers cute until they began searching their pockets for money. Which promptly forced Hagrid to pull them off and fling them back into a large caged basket full of mock gold. They were then approached by a unicorn fowl, which was golden in colour.

Harry chuckled as he saw Hermione's face light up like New Year's Eve. She promptly proceeded to pet, nuzzle and feed the rare animal. Hermione looked rather pleased. Hagrid then showed them his pumpkin patch. Now, Harry was still pretty new to magic, but he was certain that it was the only way the pumpkins were THAT big!

"Eh, well I've bin givin' 'em a bit of help," Hagrid said nervously, clutching his umbrella. If Harry was not sure if the umbrella contained Hagrid's old wand, he was now.

They eventually went back inside the hut for a spot of tea, though they politely refused the rock cakes. It was then that Harry read the newspaper that Hagrid had left aside. The headline shocked him.

"'Gringotts break-in latest! Work of dark witches or wizards unknown?'. The 31st of July?" Harry read aloud.

Hagrid chuckled. "Yeah. Crazy, innit? 'Imagine if Dumbledore hadn't gotten me to retrieve the stone earlier-" he said, freezing as he realised what he just revealed. Harry and Hermione raised their eyebrows at this, but decided not to push it. They headed back to the castle later, thinking heavily on what they had heard earlier. What was this 'stone'? Why was it in Gringotts? Why were people after it? Just who was after it?

* * *

They didn't really have much time to delve into this mystery, as the minute they reentered the common room, they were immediately drawn to the crowd gathering in front of the noticeboard of the common room. Noticeably, a lot of people were excited, while others were downcast. Ronald Weasley was part of the former, as he began rambling and boasting on and on.

"What's going on?" Hermione voiced.

"Flying lessons with the Slytherins," groaned Dean Thomas, a fellow 'muggleborn'.

Hermione freezes and paled. Harry, originally excited at the idea of flying a broom, noticed this. He knew what was going on in his best friend's mind. For all her brilliance, Hermione had one noticeable weakness apart from her self-esteem. Her fear of heights. He squeezed her hand, bringing Hermione out of her horror musings. He gave her a reassuring smile.

"Everything's going to be alright, Hermione. You aren't going to fall off. Not if I have anything to say about it," Harry said

Hermione still looked mortified. "I-I don't-"

"Are you Hermione Granger?" Harry asked, resulting in a bewildered and insulted look from her. "The Hermione Granger I know is many things. Smart, brilliant, kind, bossy-" he received a glare at this "a little shy and awkward at moments. But she carries on nonetheless. The Hermione Granger I know won't EVER back away this easily! She wouldn't give up without attempting to get it right a million times! She will find a way to solve the issue, for she is a brilliant, strong and brave person who would never let anything so trivial as fear get in her way! So are you Hermione Granger?"

Hermione looked a little shocked at this. She would have blushed a fair bit due to the unintended praise in that statement, but she knew she was not like what harry had described.

"Harry," she said, "I appreciate the praise, but you're-"

"I have been wrong on several occasions. This is not one of them,"

"I'm only like that because of you!" She blurted out, "I've only been able to do those things because you were there-"

"So? Hermione, regardless of whether I'm there or not, I am confident you can do it. I know you better than most. I know you've had bad experiences fuelling your pessimistic views, but trust me when I say that deep down, you could not be more different than what those jerks said about you. Besides, like you said, I was there for you. And I always will,"

Hermione bit her lip before smiling gratefully. "Promise?" She asked

"The very minute we became friends. I will do anything to help you, anything you ask me to,"

Her smile grew wider and Harry felt his grew too. "And vice versa, Harry. I guess I'll attend," She and Harry shared another hug.

Meanwhile, two redhead twins were currently watching the exchange with interest, deciding to place a small wager.

* * *

"UP!" The first year lions and snakes chorused. Some of the brooms on the ground immediately soared to their hands while others simply laid on the ground figuratively flipping off the students. Harry's was part of the former category, while Hermione's was somewhere in between. Her broom look torn between accepting her and staying on the ground, much to her chagrin.

"Just say it normally," Harry advised. "Try not to sound bossy or have second thoughts, it's sort of like animals. Just keep calm and confident. Try picturing it in your mind, if it works,"

Hermione threw him a look that was torn between doubtful and annoyed. She conceded, taking a moment to close her eyes and calm herself, mustering her confidence. As Harry gave her other hand a gentle squeeze, her eyes flung open with determination.

"UP!" She commanded, noticeably less bossy but more confident and calm. The broom rolled a little, before soaring into her hand. She looked delighted and shared a smile with Harry. An annoyed growl caught their attention, as they turned in time to watch Ronald Weasley, who had earlier boasted about his skills, fail quite spectacularly.

"UP!" He said annoyed, drawing it out. This time, his broom proceeded to rise by the handle and give him a good hard whack on the nose. Something everyone else took the piss out of (1).

"Alright," Madam Hooch, the flying instructor said, "Everyone, I want you to mount your brooms like this. Yes, that's good. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, what the devil are you two doing? Both of you are gripping it wrongly. Do you want to lose control and crash, breaking your spines in the process?"

"That's assuming they have spines," Harry muttered, causing Hermione to smirk and nudge him. The two boys looked embarrassed and furious, proceeding to glare at each other as if it were the other's fault.

The lesson went on rather well. They managed to kick off and fly around a decent bit, hovering in the air and tossing a ball Madam Hooch had handed them. Hermione looked nervous at first, but after a while had quashed her fear, the sudden thrill of flying finally taking hold.

"I like flying!" She called out to harry as she passed him. "But at the same time, I hate it!". Harry could only ponder how both were simultaneously possible.

It was when Madam Hooch had asked them to return that things got a little crazy. While everyone was making successful landing attempts, Neville seemed to be struggling. It was not long before everyone began to notice this. Every time Neville tried to get lower, the broom would rise up even more. It suddenly rose by the handle and shot up. 15 feet. 20 feet. 30 feet. Harry could see Neville's hand slip, and the next thing everyone knew, he was lying on the ground unconscious.

Madam Hooch dashed over to the unconscious boy, muttering about lousy brooms and budget cuts. "Broken wrist," she muttered, inspecting Neville. She hauled him up and proceeded to carry him to the hospital wing. "If I catch anybody on their brooms in the air when I get back, they would be out of Hogwarts faster than you could say 'quidditch',"

As soon as they left, Draco Malfoy, the Blonde haired ponce of an aristocratic bigot from the train, laughed. "Did you see that fat lump's face?" Some of the Slytherins laughed. Others, especially the Gryffindors weren't amused.

"Oh shove it, Malfoy," Parvati Patil, a Gryffindor first year shot back.

"Oooh! Standing up for fat crybaby squibs, Patil?" Pansy Parkinson, a pug-faced Slytherin girl, mocked back.

"Hey!" Malfoy yelled, garnering everybody's attention. "It's that fatty Longbottom's remembrall!" The sphere glittered in the sun as he held it up.

Harry had had enough by now. "How about you give it here, Malfoy?"

The whole class was now staring at the two of them. Harry was not deterred, though. Malfoy gave an evil smile, before mounting his broom and kicking off, soaring high above the class, more than 80 feet up. Harry made to follow him, kicking off on his broom, much to Hermione's protest. He had barely taken off, though, when Malfoy's shooting star decided to kick the bucket for him, breaking into two. Malfoy spun out of control.

Panicking, he tossed the remembrall high up into the air, before letting go of the bit of broom left. Harry sighed as he reached around 40 feet. He hated the Malfoy ponce, but for now he'll help him out only because he did not want anybody to die due to pettiness. As Malfoy got closer and faster, Harry aimed a levitation charm at the ponce. The charm worked, and Malfoy slowed down to a stop 5 feet off the ground, before Harry released him.

It was then he realised he forgot about another thing. The Remembrall! Harry spun around and squinted. There was the remembrall, a fair distance away and falling fast, around 30 feet and closing. Harry took off on the shooting star, diving dangerously fast towards where he predicted the ball was going to be, the whistling of the wind blocking out the screams of his year mates. He stretched out his hand, catching the ball a foot from the ground. He tilted the handle up just in time to slow to a gentle stop, collapsing gently onto the grass.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry felt the blood drain from his face as he turned and saw the towering figure of Professor McGonagall dashing towards him. He got up trembling.

"Never-in all my time at Hogwarts-" Her glasses flashed furiously, causing Harry to involuntarily shudder. "You might've broken your neck!"

Several Gryffindors and Slytherins had rushed over to Harry's defense upon seeing the deputy headmistress. "But Professor, it wasn't his-"

"That's enough, Mr. Thomas,"

"But Malfoy-"

"Miss Greengrass, do you wish to have points docked for your impertinence? If not, be quiet. Mr. Potter, follow me," The professor said with an air of finality. Only to be blocked by one Hermione Granger.

"If you're going to expel Harry, professor," she said in a low voice, "you're going to have to expel me too,"

Professor McGonagall blinked, before giving the girl the tiniest of half smiles. "Miss Granger, I never said I would be punishing Mr. Potter, let alone expelling him," She muttered before dragging Harry along and back up to school.

Harry was beyond confused. He had managed to catch that interaction. If he wasn't being punished, then what the devil was she dragging him up to the castle for? She came to a stop outside Professor Flitwick's, the charms teacher's, classroom before knocking on the door.

"I am so sorry to disturb your lessons, Filius. May I borrow Wood for the moment?" She asked upon opening the door.

"What the devil is a 'Wood'?" Harry muttered to himself. He got his answer as a tall fifth year boy exited the classroom, looking at him curiously.

"Come with me!" The professor commanded. She led them to an unused classroom, scaring the living crap out of Peeves, the school's resident poltergeist and troublemaker, before shutting the door.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor house Quidditch team. Wood, I think I've found you a seeker,"

* * *

_**A/N: Second chapter up. Please understand that I may not be able to update regularly due to school. Trust me, it's getting crazy over here. Please favourite, share and follow this story! Leave a review to tell me what you think.**_

**_(1): Taking the piss. From what I understand, it is British slang. It means to joke or make fun of something._**


	3. Chapter 3

_**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER**_

* * *

"She did WHAT?" Hermione screeched, dropping her half-eaten yorkshire pudding.

"She decided to forego any form of punishment in favour of conscripting me as the new seeker of the House Quidditch team," Harry rephrased nonchalantly, helping himself to some roast potatoes.

"Has she gone mental? What about the first-year rule?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Harry sighed. Such was the troublesome outcome of McGonagall's outlandish proposal that he wished he'd never pulled off either stunt. His best friend had always chewed him out for things like this, though uncommon as they are. The gratitude he felt for Hermione for her constant concern was ever present, do not get him wrong, but it was nonetheless somewhat exasperating explaining that everything would and had worked out. "She said she was willing to bend it a little. The professor evidently wants the Quidditch cup in her office this year,"

"There were reasons for implementing that rule in the first place. In fact, I find that already lax as it is!" She said. "Look, I'm glad she's not punishing you. I know you're excited about this game. But I can't believe that our pragmatic, stoic, hardline rule-abiding teacher is willing to put your welfare on the line for, what, a dusty old trophy?"

"Hermione, relax. I'm not going off to war or something," he reassured. "I'm not going to die. Fred and George and Madam Pomfrey will see to that. Besides, I could always count on you to sort out my mess,"

Hermione gave him a playful punch. "Prat. I wonder why I even help you out at all," she said playfully, referring to their History of Magic essay and astronomy.

"Because that's what friends are for? Besides, I helped you out as well, though admittedly not as much," Harry replied. Truthfully, between the two of them, Harry knew that he could not compete with his best friend's intelligence. She was, in his opinion, the smartest person in the world. And he was perfectly fine with that.

"Enjoying your last meal, Potter?" A drawling voice said. Harry and Hermione peered out from the corner of their eyes and resisted the urge to roll them. Apparently, Draco Malfoy had come to satisfy his daily quota of sneering. Though, this time neither Crabbe nor Goyle were present. Something that was uncanny, as Malfoy had always depended on the other two as a deterrent. In their stead was Pansy Parkinson, who did not exactly command their level of fear.

"Come to see me off, have you? Didn't know you cared, Malfoy. I'm touched," Harry replied sarcastically. Malfoy looked like he wanted to sneer back at Harry, before a rude interruption made him switch targets.

"A little cocky, aren't you? Showing up without your two boyfriends," Ron snarled from down the table.

Malfoy smirked, closing the distance between him and the redhead. "Jealous, are you? Don't worry, Weaselby. Surely you'd have had plenty of people lining up to be your mate given your wealth, wouldn't you? Oh wait…"

Ron seethed. "Don't you dare bring that into this!"

Malfoy's smirk grew wider. "I seem to have tripped a nerve," he sneered, "What's the matter Weasley? Upset that your parents can't afford you new knickers? Or that they don't love you enough to buy you some?"

Ron was visibly grinding his teeth. "Love cannot be measured by money, Malfoy,"

"But surely, if your family loves you so much, your two brothers would have sent you money? I've heard one of them is a goblin's lapdog now, snogging cursed corpses in Egypt. Interesting career, but does it pay well to do something unbecoming of even blood traitors like him? Though I daresay that you would suit that job more, given your obvious lack of skill,"

"Well, he didn't bribe the minister to get his job unlike your father!" Ron growled

Malfoy feigned a look of shock. "What do you mean 'bribe', Weasel? We donate generously towards the wellbeing of the wizarding world. You wouldn't understand, of course. What with your father's lousy calling and his constant campaigning for scum to roam amongst us,"

By now, quite a number of people were watching the two exchange insults. Parkinson, on the other hand, rolled her eyes and turned to face Harry and Hermione with a grimace.

"What Draco originally intended to say was that he is immensely grateful you chose to save him, Potter. I too am in your debt for saving my fiancé," Harry and Hermione shared a wide-eyed glance of surprise. "even though we may have… opposing viewpoints. Which is why we want to know what is it we could do to repay the life debt,"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Life debt?" He looked to Hermione for answers, whose face showed recognition of the term.

"It's an old pureblood wizarding concept. It's basically saying 'I owe you one', however the indebted would have to do anything until both parties agree that the debt has been fully paid. It is, in essence, a very old, very small, almost forgotten and insignificant bylaw from an ancient era," She recited. "Most simply do not choose to recognise or resort to these 'magic enforced' life debts. Those who do, which are usually the 'nobler' families, would have enormous leverage over the other. Of course, that's if both parties agree to such old, ridiculous policies based on a very backwards view on 'honour' and 'justice'" she added, with a scandalized look at Parkinson, who returned it with a withering glare.

Harry took a moment to process the whole situation. So Malfoy owed him favours. He shuddered at the thought of being forced to do literally anything just as a 'thank you'. Too many terrible, terrible memories surfaced from the thought. He was determined not to be like those sorry excuses of the human race, also known as the Dursleys. The bullying experienced from the family of three were just a few in a long list.

Bullying… "Leave my friends and I alone," He said with finality, "Don't disturb or hurt us in any way. You don't mess with us, we don't mess with you and your 'debt' is settled. Deal?"

Pansy nodded, sending one last glare at Hermione, before marching off to try and pry Malfoy from Ron. Harry, attempting to block out the various insults being exchanged just a few metres away, proceeded to voice his incredulity to Hermione. "'Fiancé'? They're married?,"

"It appears to be," Hermione mumbled, spectating as Pansy and Draco shared a last few muttered words with Ron, before leaving. "I've read that some old, noble families may choose to betrothe their children to other noble families, some at a very young age. Sort of like royal families,"

Harry rolled his eyes. "That has got to be the biggest insult to the Windsors ever, comparing the Malfoys to them,"

Hermione smiled. "I concur. Prince Andrew could be a child molester, for all we know, and I bet he's still better than Malfoy,"

"I very much doubt a member of the Royal Family would have a crush on children. If anything, they'd have a crush on each other," Harry commented dryly. "But I still see your point. Oh for heaven's sake, what does he want now?" He added as Ron wandered over to them.

"Harry, mate," the Redhead asked, "Do you want to be my second?"

Harry looked at him feeling extremely confused. "A what?"

"Oh you know, my second. My duelling partner, backup. Malfoy challenged me to a duel at midnight. I need you to back me up," Ron replied

Harry and Hermione exchanged a quick bewildered glance. Had Ron no functioning brain cells whatsoever?

"Ron, as much as I hate the goose-stepping ponce, I do not think that your private spat is of any concern to me. I have no intention of being your 'backup' in a duel, let alone partake in one at midnight. What for? Just to make yourself a little less butt-hurt? I have no intention of blatantly breaking the rules, and most likely getting caught, just to see the ponce cry, so you should find someone else," Harry said, cramming the last bit of food on his plate before leaving with Hermione for the cosy armchairs of the common room. Indiscernible muttering broke out as people from the four house tables, and the staff table, noticed the two leaving together once more. Little did they know that soon, an ongoing pool between two twins would expand to encompass most of the school.

As they neared the common room entrance, Harry couldn't help but voice his thoughts. "Do you think he'll actually sneak out at midnight?"

To which Hermione responded, "I don't know and frankly I don't care. We'll find out tomorrow,"

* * *

That night would see the loss of 100 points from Gryffindor and Ron Weasley getting the attention he wanted. The ponce, according to Ron, had chickened out and he got caught by Filch and Professor Snape. Obviously, nobody believed his word, opting instead to shun him. Overnight, Ron had gone from 'that loud guy' to being the scum of Gryffindor. Needless to say, everyone was pretty mad at him.

The Gryffindors hated him for single-handedly losing 100 points in one night. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were torn between being joyful and downright disgusted at the redhead's foolishness. The Slytherins, well, cheered...naturally. Their hegemony over the house cup was now undisputed.

Everyone knew that no matter how many points the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs scored, they would not be able to dethrone Slytherin. And with the upcoming Quidditch match between the seasoned Slytherin team and the limping Gryffindors, whose team was lacking in decent players, notably a seeker, for years, it seemed the gap would only grow in the snakes' favour.

But word got out of an interesting development that raised the hopes and the spirits of the house of lions to new heights. Oliver Wood, the captain and veteran keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, had found someone to fill in the empty role of seeker. That someone was none other than Harry James Potter.

The amount of unwanted attention he received was at an all-time high due to the whole 'boy-who-lived' thing, but now that he was the Gryffindor seeker, peace and quiet became a rarity. So much so that he and Hermione sought refuge in the lair of Madam Pince, who was none too happy about hordes of rowdy students barging into her library.

"Why can't they just take the hints already?" Harry muttered in disbelief as the librarian quite literally threw more and more people out.

"I dunno," Hermione replied. "Wizards don't exactly possess an abundance of common sense," she added, smirking at him.

Harry cracked a smile. "Ouch, you wound me with your words. Jokes aside, I'd have to say that's rather accurate from what I've experienced. Though it still shocks me that people can actually reach that level of ignorance and stupidity. I'm just glad Madam Pince deals with most of them," He noticed a small crowd of people already gathering outside the library. Harry sighed. Madam Pince may be an excellent barrier against people like Ron Weasley, but there was no escaping them outside of library, save for maybe Hagrid's hut, the grounds and the common room

In the weeks leading up to the first match, people swarmed Harry, trying to bask in reflected glory, wish him the best, or taunt him by promising to have a mattress ready to catch him. Some in the first category took to targeting Hermione to become Harry's friend, however they thought the result may be. Ron Weasley had become a stellar example of this.

At first, his tactics were the usual, sneering and muttering, criticising her every aspect and action. All while trying to lecture Harry to death about various things (I.E criticising Hermione, blabbering about quidditch, Ron's interests and dreams, boasting, etc.) After realising this was not working, he tried to be friendly with Hermione, who shut down every pretentious offer he made, while persistently and aggressively trying to cozy up to Harry.

On a much lighter note, having herbology, charms and astronomy with the Hufflepuffs meant frequent interaction between the house of lions and the house of badgers. Harry and Hermione managed to find friends amongst the badgers, notably Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Ernie Macmillan, all of whom thankfully saw past the image of the 'boy-who-lived' orchestrated by the ministry and countless fiction writers. They managed to see the real Harry, got to know him, and became friendly with him, much to Harry's relief.

He was also relieved that this small group of 'puffs were unlike the various other students who had taken to looking down on Hermione. The five friends, along with Neville Longbottom had decided to form a small study group soon after, and a hierarchy formed with Harry, Hermione, Neville and Susan in the center circle. Susan was, at first, rather shy, but after getting to know both Harry and Hermione better, she gradually opened up, revealing a rather bubbly, caring and outgoing personality. Harry had to admit it reminded him of Hermione when they first became acquainted, minus 80% of the bullying of course.

Their small unofficial study group had gotten 10 points each once their heads of house found out, stunning them. Apparently, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs doing the Ravenclaws' favourite pastime was worth lots of points. Ron, upon learning of this group's existence, tried to worm himself in one day. For reasons unknown, he did not register that the primary purpose of a study group was to study, and he ended up disrupting an entire session with his grumbling and insistence on playing chess.

Unfortunately, the month of October, 1991 was coming to a close and the month of November was just on the horizon. The first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was just a few weeks away. Tensions between the two rival houses were at their breaking points. The Slytherin had taken to tormenting and jeering at Harry whenever he was in the vicinity of them. And several insensitive pretentious Gryffindors were using this as an excuse to 'escort' Harry.

Naturally, Ronald Weasley was one of them. Their presence alone heightened tensions, and only escalated when the 'escorts' started confrontations with random Slytherins, and in Ron's case anyone who was not a Gryffindor. Mercifully, the staff members issued punishments accordingly, although Snape tried accusing Harry of being a gang leader, something that Ron tried to take pride in and spun a tale about Harry being the ringleader and him being the second-in-command. Thankfully, the tale he spun was quite ridiculous, and the professors quickly discerned from other students that this was false.

Ron was nevertheless persistent. Harry could only groan and brace, knowing that sooner or later, something bad would happen. And he was right, as things soon came to ahead on Halloween.

They were having Charms lessons in the morning. Professor Flitwick had paired the class up and instructed them to perform the levitation charm, the same charm Harry had used to save Malfoy, on a feather. The professor had split Harry and Hermione up, placing Harry with Seamus Finnigan and Hermione with Ron, hoping that the two best students would be able to help the two worst students. Which turned out to be a fiasco.

"Wingahdum Lev'osa!" Seamus chanted for the umpteenth time, promptly blowing up their feather. Harry groaned. He hoped Hermione was having it better, as he looked over.

Unfortunately, things did not seem to be going any better over at Hermione's table either.

"OK, first, please stop flicking your wand repeatedly like that, you're going to pluck someone's eye out," Hermione warned. Harry felt a mild surge of anger and annoyance as he saw Ron roll his eyes. "It's pronounced as Wing-gar-dium Levi-oh-sa. Stretch out the 'gar' a bit,"

"If you're so clever, Miss I-know-everything-and-love-showing-off, why don't you do it, then?" Ron retorted. Hermione huffed, giving the rude redhead a scowl, before rolling up her sleeves.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" She incanted. Sure enough, the feather levitated off the table. Hermione raised her wand further, resulting in the feather floating higher and higher, reaching the ceiling, before gradually bringing it back down.

That garnered ten points to Gryffindor. Professor Flitwick awarded another ten points just a few minutes later, when Harry successfully levitated his feather on the first try as well. He and Hermione shared a smile at each other. But while professor Flitwick was complimenting both of them, Harry noticed Ron and Seamus scowling at Hermione.

Once Charms was over, the two took positions on either side of Harry as they were heading back to the great hall for lunch. Hermione had opted to stay behind a little to ask Professor Flitwick something. Harry hoped she would hurry up. He didn't want to spend another minute listening to the two trolls.

"'It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-oh-sa'!" Ron mocked, "She's a nightmare, honestly! That ugly buck-toothed bossy hag! No wonder she has no friends! She deserves that! Don't you agree mate?" He added, nodding to Seamus and Harry.

"Ron-"

"Yeah, even Harry agrees! About time mate. We've been trying to tell you that the whole time! Glad you've come around,"

Harry grabbed Ron by the collar. "Listen here, Weasley-" he started, anger surging through him. Before he could continue, a brown-haired blur bolted past him and out of sight. Harry felt his heart shatter. Hermione had heard them, and had assumed the worst.

"Hermione," he muttered, before dashing after her. Forget Ron. Forget Seamus. He needed to find her.

* * *

A task which was easier said than done, as she seemed to have disappeared into thin air. He spent the rest of the lunch break looking for her, searching every corner of the castle. His search was put on hold, as soon enough lunch was over. He reluctantly conceded, heading back to class. He did not pay the professors any attention though. The only things going through his mind were finding Hermione and exacting retribution on the redheaded prat.

It was only during the feast later that evening that he finally got a lead. And from the most unlikeliest of sources. He had asked (read: begged) everbody, when they had sat down for the Halloween feast, if they had seen his best friend. And it was Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil who answered him.

"She's been crying in the loo since this morning," Parvati said, a look of pity on her and Lavender's faces.

"We tried to get her to come out for the feast, but she refused to listen," Lavender added. He asked the girls which bathroom and thanked them, before rushing out of the great hall. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, ignoring the protests of his stomach, which was demanding he turn back and eat something. He neared the bathrooms the two gossipers had directed him to, and sure enough there were faint sobs coming from the girl's bathroom.

He knocked on the bathroom door. "Hermione?" He asked "Are you in there?"

"Who's there?" Hermione's voice called back in panic. "This is a girl's bathroom!"

"Hermione, it's me, Harry," Harry replied.

"...go away"

"What?" Harry asked bewilderedly.

The door flung open, revealing a very dishevelled Hermione. "GO AWAY!" She spat harshly. "Don't pretend I didn't hear you! You…you and that DAMN Weasley talking behind my-" She didn't get to finish, for Harry had wrapped her in a gentle, comforting hug. She struggled a little. "Let me-"

"Shh" Harry interrupted. His green eyes met her chocolate brown ones. The fire and angst in her eyes slowly dissipated.

"W-wh-what are you doing?" She stuttered, her eyes misty as tears began rolling down her cheeks again "Why do you-"

"You're my best friend," Harry replied. "How can I not care?"

"But I thought-"

"Hermione, Ron is an idiot and a prat. I never agreed with him about you. I couldn't care any less about his opinions," Harry interrupted. "My opinion of you has not changed. There is nothing wrong with buck teeth, and you certainly aren't a hag. But more importantly, you DO actually have friends. You have Me. You have Susan. You have Parvati, Lavender, Ernie, Neville and everyone else. Don't listen to some jealous delusional bully. You're my most precious person, Hermione. I will always be with you. To the very end,"

He saw tear after tear roll down her face as he said that. Suddenly, she threw her arms around him, returning the hug. They stayed like this for a while, Harry and Hermione hugging each other as Hermione cried into his shoulder. When she finally calmed down, she slowly detached from him.

"Are you feeling better?" Harry asked, his voice full of care and concern

"Y-yes," she said, a tinge of red on her cheeks. "S-sorry...for cry-"

"Nah, it's fine," Harry reassured, applying a quick drying charm. "Come on then, 'Mione," he said, giving a small smile. Hermione blushed at the nickname and the smile. "Let's get going. I think the feast may still be ongoing,"

They took each other's hand and set off. Harry kept glancing back at Hermione to make sure she was feeling okay while making jibes and jokes about a certain redhead. Hermione gave a few small, watery chuckles, even joining in on the joking.

The floor suddenly shook. Harry and Hermione stopped. They gave each other a worried glance, before raising their wands. The source of the loud thuds and the shaking seemed to be getting closer. They edged forward warily. Then, out of the corner in front of them lumbered a huge mass of grey. The stench coming off of it was incomprehensible. The creature was easily 20 feet tall, carrying what looked like a massive club, a dumb, stupid expression on it's face.

The two best friends froze, their hands shaking as they lowered their wands. The troll looked at them, before giving an almighty roar.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, dragging Hermione as they ran as fast as they could away from it. The troll gave another roar, pursuing the two down the corridor.

"What the heck is a troll doing in the castle?" Hermione screamed as they rounded a corner.

"I don't know, and I certainly don't care!" Harry yelled back. They could hear the troll gaining on them. They rounded another corner, sighing in relief as they heard the telltale "Crunch!" of the troll smacking itself into the wall. Harry risked a look. The troll appeared disoriented, before letting out another roar and continuing its pursuit. Harry cursed.

"Over here!" Harry yelled, running up a stairwell. He was halfway up it when he heard Hermione yelp. He spun around and his heart dropped like a stone. She had her foot trapped in a trick step and had fallen.

"HERMIONE!" Harry yelled. The troll stepped onto the landing. It saw Hermione on the stairs, looking absolutely terrified, before raising its club. Harry's eyes widened, his heart stopped. It was going to kill her. Cursing, he brandished his wand at the troll.

"FLIPENDO!" He bellowed. An angry red streak of light soared from his wand and impacted the troll's club, which was raised straight up. The club flew backwards violently, dragging with it the owner. Harry watched with relief as the troll proceeded to tumble down the stairs, roaring in agony, before landing with a sickening "crunch!" at the foot of the steps.

Just as he helped Hermione out of the trick step, Harry heard loud footsteps headed towards them. Moments later, Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape arrived at the stairwell.

"Good heaven's!" Professor McGonagall gasped, examining the damaged and dented stairs and the huge club lodged into the wall on the landing below. She let out another gasp as all three professors looked over the railing and saw the troll's body. Professor Quirrell descended the steps to get a closer look at the now unconscious troll. Professor McGonagall rounded on the two first years.

"Well? Explain yourselves!" She demanded.

"He was looking for me, Professor," Hermione mumbled. "I was using the bathroom. Harry got worried when he realised I was not at the feast and went looking for me. We were headed back when we ran into the troll. We tried to run, but I got trapped in the trick step. Harry knocked the troll back before it could swing its club at me, and it fell down the steps,"

Professor McGonagall looked both relieved and grave. "In that case, Mr. Potter you did a very brave thing, helping your friend. For that, take 10 points to Gryffindor. And for eliminating the troll, take another 10 points" she said. "Might I ask which spell you used?" She added.

"The knockback jinx. Flipendo," Harry replied.

Professor McGonagall looked slightly surprised. "Flipendo? But-well, I guess it could, but-" she shook her head. "Mr. Potter, would you and Miss Granger head back up to the common room? The food from the feast should have already been sent up," Professor McGonagall told them, before she and professor Snape went to inspect the troll's body.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing Harry's hand and setting off, before realising Harry was not moving. "Harry?" She asked curiously. "Har- huh?" She said as Harry hugged her again.

"I-I th-thought I was going t-to lose you," he sobbed. Hermione's eyes widened, before returning the hug, patting her best friend on the back.

"Hey, look at me," Harry pulled away a little and met her eyes. "It's alright. I'm here, alive and well thanks to you. And as you've said, I'm with you to the end," she smiled as she saw Harry calm down a little. "Now come on. As much as I enjoy our hugs-" she looked away to hide her blush, not realising Harry was doing the same, "-we really need to get back," Harry nodded.

* * *

"Albus, we need to talk,"

The old headmaster looked up from the report of that night's events. He gave the potions master a questioning glance. "What about, Severus?"

The potions master sighed. Never had he ever imagined that he would be having this discussion, but he had seen things that had left him no choice. "It's about Mr. Potter," he said, before taking a step closer.

"To be more specific, his current living conditions," he added in an icy tone.

* * *

It had been two weeks since the troll incident. Despite not revealing what had happened to anyone, word got out about that night's events. Ron had once again tried to spin the tale and cozy up to Harry. Harry was having none of it. He berated Ron in front of everyone in the common room one night. Which unfortunately meant inadvertently revealing the real details of the incident. But Harry did not care at that moment.

The next day Ron woke up to find his tongue enlarged, his hair turned to seaweed and several ridiculous markings drawn across his face in some sort of water resistant ink. The Weasley twins were accused of orchestrating the prank, which they denied. Nobody noticed Harry and Hermione smirking the entire time.

Too soon, the day of the Quidditch match had arrived. The morning had dawned rather early and bright. Excitement filled the air as everyone looked forward to a good match.

Everyone except Harry.

"You've got to eat something," Hermione wheedled.

"I'm not hungry," Harry replied. He felt terrible. In just a few hours, he'd be walking out onto the pitch. He just did not feel like eating anything.

"You can't play on an empty stomach," Hermione pleaded.

"I'm not eating anything," Harry insisted.

Hermione sighed. She picked up a fresh piece of toast, spread some butter on it, before jabbing it against Harry's cheek. Harry looked at her confused and a little annoyed.

"I'm not going to stop until you open your mouth and eat," she said. A few snickers could be heard around the table. Harry sighed, before taking the piece and biting off a portion of it.

Hermione smiled. "Now that wasn't too difficult, was it?" Harry grunted. Hermione piled a bit more food on his plate. "I'm going to grab a seat before they're all taken," she said, before planting a kiss on his cheek.

Harry dropped the piece of toast, his eyes going wide. He slowly turned to look at Hermione, feeling the spot where she had kissed him. His brain seemed to have a complete shutdown. All rational thought left him as he stared at his best friend, replaying the moment she had kissed his cheek.

Hermione giggled at the stunned expression on Harry's face. "Good luck, Harry," she said, before leaving the great hall, ignoring the smirks and glares of those who witnessed the exchange. It took a few full minutes for Harry's brain to reboot. When it did however, he felt no nervousness, no reluctance towards the match. Instead, all he felt was determination and pure joy

* * *

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Gryffindor's Angelina Johnson" Lee Jordan, who was doing the commentary, commented as the match began. "What a brilliant chaser, that girl is! Not to mention rather attractive-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall. Anyway, the Quaffle is passed to Spinnet-"

Harry, meanwhile, was scouring the pitch, searching furtively for a tiny glint of gold. He needed to find the snitch to end the match and score 150 points. Unfortunately, it appeared to be hiding for the time being. He felt bored after a few minutes, the snitch still nowhere in sight. The Slytherin seeker, Terence Higgs, had also yet to locate it. Soon, Gryffindor had scored 2 goals, bringing the score to 20-0, with Wood blocking every Slytherin attempt at a goal.

It was then, he noticed a glint on the edge of his peripheral vision. His eyes widened. The snitch was over at the Gryffindor goalposts. He tilted his broom and sped towards it, Hoping to catch up to Higgs, who was closer to the tiny golden ball but had yet to see it. Harry sped past him. Higgs noticed, and tried to follow but wasn't fast enough. Harry was faster. He could clearly see the little golden ball, wings fluttering, darting around in front of him.

WHAM! Harry held onto his broom for dear life as Marcus Flint knocked into him. He finally regained control. He turned to see Katie Bell, one of the chasers, take the free shot at the Slytherin goalposts. But the snitch was nowhere to be seen. He cursed his bad luck, before continuing to circle the pitch. Unable to spot the snitch, he kept flying, dodging countless bludgers sent his way by the Slytherin beaters.

Just as he dodged another bludger flying at him, it happened. His broom gave a sudden lurch. Then another. And another. It began to rise, rocking back and forth in an attempt to throw Harry off. It rolled over, and Harry was left dangling, holding on with only one hand.

Back in the stands, Hermione looked on horrified as the broom continued to try and shake Harry off. She grabbed Hagrid's binoculars from him and began searching wildly around. She looked to the teacher's stand and felt her jaw drop. There was Professor Snape, gazing intently at Harry, muttering something under his breath.

"He's jinxing the broom," Hermione gasped. Her worry was replaced by anger as she continued to stare at Snape. She looked up at Harry, who was just managing to hang on. She cursed, handing Hagrid back his binoculars, before making her way hastily towards the teacher's stand. She was not going to sit by and watch someone murder her Harry.

She crawled behind the teacher's seats, before taking aim at the spot underneath Professor Snape. She muttered the incantation and blue flames shot out from the tip of her wand. She made her escape. The yelps of the teachers told her she had done her job, she looked up at Harry and let out a "Yes!" as she saw him clamber back onto his broom and sped off.

Harry did not know what was happening. One moment his broom was trying to kill him, and the next moment he was able to regain control. He was not complaining though. He spotted the snitch again near the ground and dove off after it before his broom regressed. He felt the wind whistling in his ears as he sped towards the ground like a bullet. He levelled off just a foot from the ground, his arm outstretched. He took his other hand off the broom and reached forward to cup the golden sphere.

He crashed onto the pitch, rolling and skidding a good distance, before coming to a stop. He lay there, his entire body aching as he raised and waves his right hand, a tiny golden ball visible in it.

Almost instantly the stands erupted in cheers. Lee Jordan was shouting the result of the match repeatedly. His six teammates landed around him and proceeded to drag him up. And enveloped him in a group hug. They released him eventually, but immediately retreated a small distance away from him, looking at something, Harry raised an eyebrow as Fred and George smirked. He did not notice a certain bushy-haired Harry-seeking missile headed towards him.

"Harry!" Hermione's yell was his only warning before she collided with him, wrapping her arms around him. He blushed as Fred and George catcalled. The hug ended pretty quickly however (much to Harry's disappointment), and Hermione proceeded to check him over for any injury, chastising him for his recklessness at the end. Harry was still a little dazed, memories of past hugs and the kiss that morning replaying in his mind.

* * *

That afternoon, it was impossible to get any peace and quiet. The Weasley twins decided to throw one of the biggest parties Harry's ever been to, one that lasted from the afternoon to well into the night. It was a little agonizing, having everyone congratulate and try to cozy up to him, oblivious to his trying to get some peace and quiet. So much so that Harry and Hermione decided to once again take refuge in the library. During which, Hermione briefed Harry about Snape jinxing his broom. And it just so happened that Hagrid was walking past.

"Nonsense!" Hagrid said "Why would Snape want to jinx yer broom, Harry?"

"I saw Snape staring at Harry while muttering a jinx, Hagrid," Hermione said, "I know a jinx when I see one,"

"And I'm telling yeh, yeh're wrong!" Hagrid replied. "After all, Dumbledore trusts 'im,"

"And we're supposed to trust the headmaster's judgement?" Harry asked skeptically.

"If yeh can't trust Dumbledore, who can we trust?" Hagrid replied. "After all, 'e trusts Snape well enough ter help guard the stone-" Hagrid's eyes widened as he realised he had again let slip something he was not supposed to. Harry and Hermione shared a curious glance.

"What 'stone', Hagrid?" Hermione pressed.

"Shouldn'ta said tha'," he muttered. "Look, jus' ferget I said anythin'. What tha' stone is is strictly between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flamel-"

"A-ha! So there's someone named 'Nicholas Flamel' involved, eh?" Harry shot back. Hagrid grunted and proceeded to leave the two alone, not wanting to accidentally reveal anything else.

It was then Harry recalled something. "Hang on, when Hagrid and I went to Gringott's he retrieved a small object from a high security vault under Dumbledore's orders. That same vault was later broken into," he began. Hermione's eyes widened.

"And during the start-of-term feast, Professor Dumbledore said the Third floor corridor was out of bounds to all students," she recounted.

"What if whatever that Hagrid had retrieved, whatever that the perpetrators of the break-in were after, was instead transferred to Hogwarts and guarded inside the third floor?" Harry continued.

"And what if that object is this 'stone'?" Hermione concluded. With a nod, they both set off, scouring the library for anything on this 'stone' and 'Nicholas Flamel'

Meanwhile, an old man disillusioned himself in front of the table Harry and Hermione were sitting at just moments ago. He sighed in relief as he saw phase one of his improvised plan succeed. He just hoped that he did not have to make any more changes to his plans. After all, he needed Harry Potter to be honed. Honed into the ultimate weapon against the dark lord. The weapon needed to raise his influence and crush the dark forces that were regrouping. The ultimate weapon he needed to to achieve the greater good.

He just hoped that there were no more complications and the rest of his 'brilliant' plan played out accordingly. If not, he was going to have to replan everything again, something that gave him a massive headache. Little did he know that fate did not agree with his manipulations, and would make him do so, over and over again.

* * *

_**A/N: So, somebody mentioned that "Taking the piss" was not exactly common vocabulary for an eleven year-old. Let me clarify, I realised it was not the best choice of words, even though I was writing that specific part in third person. You know, NOT from Harry's POV. I agree that "taking the mickey sounded better and I did try to change it. Key word is " try". I had problems accessing the document again, probably because I have a rather terrible phone. Anyway, I'm sorry the story hasn't diverged a lot from Canon yet, but it will in later chapters so please have a bit of patience and bear with it a little longer.**_

_**Anyway, please Review, favourite and follow this story. Suggestions and constructive criticism would be welcome, but please don't be too harsh. I'm still human and have feelings. Seeya later!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN RE-UPLOADED DUE TO SEVERAL ERRORS I ONLY FOUND AFTER POSTING. Also, please read the A/N at the very end.**

**A word from the author before the chapter begins: Now, I know staying at home and following Social distancing is a pain, but please for the love of everything you hold dear, follow them. Bear with it. Only if we do all the necessary steps and persevere can we finally rid ourselves of the Coronavirus. It did not magically go away by April, as some people promised, and it will probably go on well into the summer months and beyond. It is now at a critical level. So please stay at home as much as possible and only go out when you really have to. Thank you for wasting a few minutes reading this. Let's get on with the story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

It was another fine Saturday morning in the Dursley household. The two seated at the dining table were in rather high spirits as they downed their not-so-subtle breakfast. Well, actually one of the two persons' breakfast was subtle, the other's breakfast consisted of a sizable mountain of bacon, sausages, hash browns, toast and scrambled eggs.

Vernon and Petunia Dursley were in rather high spirits. So far, none of the neighbours questioned their excuse as to where the unnatural freak had gone to. They recalled how heads almost rolled several years prior, when their respectable new neighbours, the Grangers, inadvertently revealed the unsavoury details about the Potter boy's treatment.

They had justified their condescension by stating several falsities, such as that the boy was a delinquent and a troublemaker, a belief enforced by the boy's appearance as a result of the treatment, which was close enough to the truth, that the boy was a freak and none of their lot should be allowed in society. But when they invited the Grangers over for tea and to get on favourable terms with the family of three, it ended up becoming a heated confrontation, overheard by several neighbours and retold to the rest via gossip, about their son, Dudley's, treatment towards their daughter and their combined treatment of Harry.

That prompted quite a few heated and almost heated discussions with several disturbed neighbours, in which parts of the truth came out. After that, the neighbours were more sympathetic to the boy, something that Vernon and Petunia did not like, but had to deal with. Thankfully, they accepted the explanation that the boy was indeed off to an obscure government boarding school. Even better, the freak himself was not coming back yet, which was always a plus.

What's more, Dudley was finally coming home! It's been months since they'd seen 'Little Diddykins', and they, especially Petunia, were really keen on having him back and spending the holidays to the fullest. Even better, the Grangers, if the gossip held true, were moving back to their old house in Crawley which they originally put up for rent, meaning that once the boy got back all would return to normal.

The doorbell rang. The couple shared a curious look. They weren't expecting anyone, especially not this bloody early. Reluctantly, Vernon stood up from his seat and waddled over to the front door. He forced it open and glared at the person before him, before recoiling slightly at the cold, indifferent gaze of none other than Daniel Granger.

"Mr. Granger," Vernon said, somewhat surprised. "How may I help you this fine morning?"

"Mr. Dursley," Dan replied, his gaze unrelenting and voice steady, betraying little emotion. "May I come in? I have a matter to discuss with you and your wife, and it will be a while,"

Vernon narrowed his piggy eyes at the taller man in front of him. "Very well then. But you're interrupting our breakfast. Petunia makes quite a fine one. I assume you have had yours? Or have you done a runner?" His light tone at the end would have made it sound like a friendly, harmless joke about spouses, but Dan knew the pig before him meant every word. This was another attempt from Vernon Dursley to be as passively hostile as possible, and this one stung. Nobody could just insult his wife like that.

"I actually had mine earlier. Emma knows how to cook up a storm. Who wouldn't want to try her cooking?" He said in a casual tone. "I did offer to cook today, but she insisted," He shook his head. "Sometimes, I feel like I don't deserve her, like she's too good for me,"

"Maybe she is," Vernon mumbled snidely under his breath. Dan heard it, and forced a laugh.

"Ah well, I'm very lucky to have such a brilliant woman reciprocate my affections, as well as the best daughter a man could ever wish for," Dan said lightheartedly.

Vernon winced. Most people would not recognise the retaliation in Dan's statement, but Vernon understood the jab. How could he not, when it was directed towards a painful memory of his?

"Petunia," He called, struggling to keep his voice steady after having certain undesirable memories brought forth. "We have a guest!"

Petunia looked up as the two men entered the kitchen, frowning slightly as she noticed Dan Granger being her guest. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this early morning visit, Dan?"

Dan mentally braced himself for a long heated negotiation as he placed the file he was carrying on the kitchen table. He wanted this done, but knowing the Dursleys, this would mean enduring quite a load of shit before anything concrete is achieved. He was going to need a very strong brandy once it was all over.

* * *

The euphoria of Gryffindor's first win over Slytherin in half a decade loitered the castle well into November and December. The defeat of Slytherin was not celebrated solely by the House of Lions, as Harry and Hermione soon found out. As they sat down for breakfast in the Great Hall with Neville the day after the match, their friends from Hufflepuff, accompanied by the veterans of the Badger's matches against Slytherin, came over to congratulate him.

This was followed by Padma, Parvati Patil's twin sister in Ravenclaw, with several of her friends. Apparently, routing the House of Snakes in a game of Quidditch was a big thing, made even bigger, apparently, considering that he had won Gryffindor house not just a victory over its historic rival, but also a considerable amount of house points and lots of gambling prize money.

This meant that he was still the nexus of attention at Hogwarts, something that really grated on him and his friends' nerves. Eventually, even Harry's Hufflepuff friends had to sometimes seek refuge in the more remote parts of the castle grounds during breaks. It was currently December, and by now the excitement had worn down, especially in other houses. That allowed Harry, Hermione and their other friends to finally have some peace, though they would be occasionally pestered by the occasional housemate.

Harry had dragged Hermione out of the library, proclaiming that he could not endure any longer and that Hermione needed to stay out of the library for a while. This was considering that both Harry and Hermione often sought refuge in public and school libraries in the past. Hermione, who was on a rough four hours of sleep, having read nearly double the books Harry had looked through in search of 'Nicholas Flamel', eventually complied, conceding that Flamel and the Stone were both none of their business and thus not worth the effort researching.

Harry really felt he and Hermione could use at least a few days out of the Library. They had been using every minute of their free time thus far poring over books in the library and the common room for any mention of 'Flamel'. Now that she agreed that they had done what would be the equivalent of a year's worth of studying on something irrelevant to them, Harry's thoughts turned slightly depressing.

There was only a week left before the winter break began. He knew that the Dursleys would not be expecting or welcoming him during this coming holiday. He was going to be staying at school, where he could at least get a hot meal, rather than at the Gulag that was the Dursley residence. What really had him in a mopey mood was that even Hermione was heading home. In just a week, he was going to be alone at Hogwarts, with not even his best friend around. It would be eleven days, but to Harry, that was an eternity in isolation.

He tried to pull himself together. After all, he had faced lonely, depressing Christmases with the Dursleys before. At least this time, he would not be worked to the bone and beaten to a pulp. But no matter how he tried to cheer himself up, the fact remained that he had grown accustomed to at least having his best friend just a street away during Christmas, and now he was going to miss her. A lot.

"Oh, cheer up you prat!" Hermione snapped at him from her seat in the common room. He blinked. Apparently, he was completely hopeless at hiding his sadness from Hermione.

He sighed. There was no point trying to deny it. "I'm going to miss you, Hermione,"

Hermione gave him a confused look. "What do you mean? You're coming with me, aren't you?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be confused. Hermione looked at him incredulously. "Did my Mum not explain it in her letter this morning?"

"Erm, Hermione," Harry said, still pretty confused. "I didn't receive any letter this morning,"

Hermione's expression turned to one of disbelief and deep thought. "That's weird. Mum sent me a letter about certain changes in my holiday arrangements. She also said in her letter she sent one to you as well about these changes,"

"What have I got to do with your family's holiday arrangements?" Harry questioned.

Hermione's eyes held a certain gleam that Harry could not exactly interpret. "She's inviting you to stay with us over this Christmas break,"

Harry, needless to say, was surprised and touched by this offer. However, he reined in his excitement before it showed. Hermione was his best friend, and her parents were the nicest people Harry has ever met. To impose on their family during one of the most festive and coveted holidays of the year therefore gave him an awful taste in his mouth.

"Harry, you're not imposing on us," Hermione said. "It's not like we were going to vacate in Hawaii or the Bahamas. Even if we were, we'd still try to bring you along,"

"Christmas is for family, Hermione," Harry replied. "I can't-I won't place a burden on you and your family and disrupt your holidays,"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "A: Christmas is for family AND, if they desire, close friends to celebrate together. B: you are family to me, Harry Potter," She said, flushing slightly as she realised what she let slip in the last sentence.

Harry felt very touched by her adamance. "Alright," he decided to joke. "Which book did you read all that from?"

Hermione playfully swatted him. "It's a simple book titled 'Why Harry Potter should shut up and stop being so bloody selfless as it's ruining him internally', authored by Hermione Granger and co-authored by her mother Emma Granger. It's yet to be published, though I feel it's a rather good read,"

Harry chuckled slightly. "Alright, tell her I accept. Though expect me to pay it back,"

"Harry, you don't have to pay us back," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "It's just what family does for each other,"

Harry sighed. "I just feel like I owe you and your parents for all that you've done,"

"Well, if I find that you've transferred your entire Gringotts vault's money into my parents bank accounts, you best hope Mum gets you before I do," She said in a mock warning tone.

"Oh, I don't know," Harry said teasingly. "You kind of look cute when you are angry,"

He desperately fought a blush that threatened to surface as he said that last bit. He chanced a glance at Hermione and found that her face was starting to get a little red. Whether from blushing or from anger, he could not tell.

"Cute, you say?" Hermione mumbled dangerously. Harry gulped as Hermione's hand twitched towards her wand. It was definitely the anger. "I'll show you cute, Harry James Potter,"

Moments later, after having chased Harry down the stairs of Gryffindor tower into a secluded section of the tower and hexing some intriguing spells on him, Hermione stood victoriously over a leg-locked Harry, who now had two bunny ears and whisker marks.

"Well?" Hermione said.

"Fine, I'm sorry for saying you look cute when you're mad. Now can you undo this," Harry forced out.

Hermione's eyes had an evil gleam. "No, I don't think I will. You look kind of cute as a bunny," she said. Her smirk faltered slightly as she saw that Harry had one of his own. She did not notice that Harry began to move a little, a sign that her binding spells were fading.

"Not that you don't look cute as you are already- really, you are. All the time-" Harry said, prompting Hermione to blush a little. "But I wonder how cute YOU are as a bunny," He launched himself at Hermione, tickling her and causing her to drop her wand. Harry took out his own and repeated what Hermione did to him. Seconds later, Hermione too had bunny ears and whiskers.

A loud clicking noise forced them to cease their tickle war. Standing a few feet away with a camera in their hands were Fred and George, Harry's teammates and notorious Gryffindor troublemakers.

"Oh no, don't mind us," one of the twins said.

"We'll just snap a few more shots and we'll leave you two love bunnies to your frolicking," The other said.

Harry and Hermione felt their faces burn at these statements. Hermione immediately brandished his wand at the twins and muttered an incantation. Seconds later, the twins' looks of glee and mischief turned to horror. They looked at each other, then down to their pants.

"I've just switched your underwear out with each other," Hermione said. "I could switch it out with something else just as easily. Unless you want a hornets nest I saw near the Forbidden forest to replace them, I suggest you hand over the camera and all the photos and never speak of this to anyone,"

The twins looked at each other. "I don't think this is worth a hornet sting to the privates,"

"You said it brother of mine," They handed the camera and the photos to the two. "We were actually looking for you, Harry,"

"We wanted to hand you an early Christmas present,"

"Early because we wanted to keep it privy from everybody else,"

"Including Hermione,"

"But seeing as she just gave us a threat worthy of a master prankster,"

"We suppose she could be trusted with the holy secret,"

"The divine artifact of mischief,"

"Our secret to success,"

"It is with great pleasure,"

"And honour,"

"That we, Gred,"

"And Forge,"

"Hang on, those aren't our names,"

"Does it matter, brother of mine?"

"Guess not, brother of mine,"

"Hereby present to you," the twin they presumed was Fred unfolded a piece of parchment, tapping his wand and muttering something.

"The Marauders' Map," They said simultaneously. Immediately, writing began to form on the parchment. This was followed by several lines, eventually forming a detailed map of-

"Hogwarts?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Every classroom, broom cupboard, loo and dorm on every single floor of the castle," Fred said.

"Including every secret hidden corridor,"

"Pathway,"

"Entrance,"

"And tunnel,"

"What's more, if you look closely,"

"It also displays every person in the castle,"

"Where they are,"

"And who they are,"

Indeed, there were many moving dots on the map, with a small ribbon displaying the person's name.

"We nicked this from Filch's Cabinet in our first year,"

"And it has helped us ever since,"

Harry took the map in his hands, gazing at it with wonder. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Hermione too was stunned by the map. As their eyes roamed the map, something caught Harry's eye. He nudged Hermione and pointed at it, and she too looked confused.

"Uh, Fred? George? Does Hogwarts employ cleaners to tidy up the dormitories?"

"They usually use House elves to do that," Fred said.

"But they're not shown on the map," George lamented.

Harry lowered the map so they could all see it. "Then why," he said, pointing to the first year Gryffindor boy's dormitory. "Is there a 'Peter Pettigrew' in our dorm?"

Harry saw the twins' eyes land on the name and froze. Their expressions turned dark and serious, something uncharacteristic of them.

"In all our years of using this marvel,"

"It has never failed,"

"It had never malfunctioned,"

"We even checked what few charms we knew existed on the parchment,"

"For any signs of age,"

"So it is unlikely the map is broken,"

"But that man in your dorm,"

"Is supposed to be long dead,"

"Which begs the question: How did he survive?"

"And what's he doing in your dorm?"

Harry and Hermione shared a glance. They knew what they had to do, but they doubted the twins were going to enjoy it. They hoped that they would understand.

"Fred, George," Harry said.

"I think we need to tell someone,"

* * *

"Are you sure of this?"

"Yes, professor," Harry. "I know that the map may not strictly be allowed, but you've got to hear us out on this,"

Professor McGonagall visibly sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. They managed to find her in the mostly abandoned staff room and told her about the situation. They only hoped she would listen- they already modified the story by saying the map was found by Fred and George in an old classroom.

"We'll discuss the map later, Mr. Potter," She said curtly. "Now as for this man-"

"The map says it's someone by the name of 'Peter Pettigrew'," Harry said. Professor McGonagall squinted at the name on the map, her face darkening. "Fred and George said he was supposed to be dead,"

"Indeed he is," a voice behind them said. They jumped, recognising the voice as none other than Professor Snape. "Did you say he was in your dormitory, Potter?"

Harry met his unnerving stare and shuddered. "Y-yes sir," he said, showing the map. He swore he could see recognition in both Professors' eyes.

"Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall," Hermione continued, "If this 'Peter Pettigrew' really is hiding in the Gryffindor dormitory, then it is important that we rat him out. A grown man creeping around the Gryffindor dormitory who by all means should not be there. I mean, even if he really is not there, it would not hurt to check, would it?"

"I would have to go to the headmaster first-"

"No," Professor Snape interjected, strolling over to Professor McGonagall.

"Excuse me, Severus?" The Scottish lady asked, her eyes narrowed.

"If it turns out to be nothing, there should be no need to interrupt the headmaster. I suggest we investigate before going to him," the potions master said emotionlessly. Harry could have sworn he saw the man mouth 'I'll explain later,' to the Deputy Headmistress.

And so they went. And upon finding the dormitory empty, professor McGonagall was a little annoyed. "Well, there is nobody here. That means your map is faulty, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger,"

"Potter, pass me the map," Professor Snape suddenly said. Harry hesitated. "Potter, pass me the map before I dock a hundred points from your house,"

Reluctantly, Harry handed the map to the potions master, thinking it was now confiscated. He was surprised when the Professor glanced at the map, before pointing his wand at Ron Weasley's empty bed. He levitated the covers, revealing a very fat, sleeping rat.

Professor McGonagall wrinkled her nose. "I'll have a word with the house elves on pest control," she made to leave before Professor Snape put a hand on her shoulder.

"Professor McGonagall, I believe you know how to reverse an animagus transformation?" The professor said icily. The professor whipped around, evidently insulted.

"Of course I do! Why would-" she paused, realisation dawning on her. "You don't think?"

Snape did not say anything. The transfiguration teacher sighed, before pointing her wand at the rat and casting the spell, evidently expecting nothing to happen. It was therefore a surprise when something DID happen.

The rat gave a squeak as it began to enlarge, twisting and turning. The tail was disappearing, and so was its fur. After a good few seconds the rat was no more. In its place a very jittery, shabby, grimy fat man.

Hermione screamed. Both of the professors in the room, noticing the wand Pettigrew had, disarmed him and fired leg locker curses. Harry looked on stunned. He did not know what to make of all this.

"Good morning, Pettigrew," the Potions master snarled sarcastically. "Had a nice rest?"

"S-severus! W-what are y-you doing-?" The man squeaked.

"You know, I always wondered why one of your friends would betray his best friend, who was also your other friend. Black and Potter were the same. Two peas in the same pod of arrogance. Everyone thought you died after confronting Black. Everyone thought you died bravely trying to bring a traitor to justice,"

Harry was lost for words. This man was friends with his father and someone who betrayed his father, who happened to be his father's best friend? What on earth? He had no idea what to make of it. It was Snape's next statements that floored him.

"But it was you who screamed out to the entire street that Black was the traitor. But if you survived, why did you not show yourself to the ministry? Also, of your merry band of marauders you were the coward and the idiot of the lot, not someone who could easily track down the second best scoring student during the OWLs of '75,"

"The dark lord had many spies and operatives within his enemy's ranks. One such spy was a rat animagus who delivered crucial information, including the whereabouts of the Potters," He took out a vial from his cloak and forced its contents down the man's throat.

"The spy once interrupted one of the dark lord's meetings in animagus form to deliver an envelope, before scurrying away." He grabbed one of Pettigrew's arms, pulling back the sleeve to reveal an intricate tattoo. Professor McGonagall and Hermione audibly gasped. "And you also bear a genuine dark mark on your forearm, something only the dark lord's servants possess. Which begs the question: were you the one who sold the Potters out to the dark lord?"

* * *

**A/N: Please drop a review and tell me what you think. Someone said this was Debauchery in response to the original chapter. I honestly laughed. M8, chill. It's just tickling, not anything more serious. What do you take me for? I have morals, alright? I know where the boundaries are and I don't intend on crossing them. This story will remain "T" rated.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading this story, and as for the people what dropped a review, you guys are awesome. Please stay tuned for the next chapter. Cya!**


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